


Milo Potter and the Guardian

by Harunos



Series: The Guardian Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blind!OMC, Boy who lived AU, F/F, F/M, M/M, Original Male Character - Freeform, dark themes, mature themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21883414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harunos/pseuds/Harunos
Summary: Being blind was hard enough but when Milo Potter finds himself stuck in a world where magic and blindness can’t seem to co-exist, his disability becomes that much harder.
Series: The Guardian Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576423





	Milo Potter and the Guardian

Lily Evans had always found herself to be quite odd from the people around her. She was different in a sense and since she could walk, the redhead had the hunch that she wasn't like everyone else. So, really, it wasn't a complete surprise when her hunch turned out to be true in the form of a dirty eleven year old boy with long unkept hair. He visited everyday near the large tree in their backyard and Lily sat there as still as a statue to hear the stories of a world not her own. A world filled with people who flew on brooms and cauldrons bubbled with life. It was fascinating to hear such words fly from his mouth and when she was told that world could be her own, Lily jumped for the chance. A world where magic, such a fantastical word in her eleven year old, existed. A world where she could grow flowers from her palms and change the color of her clothes with a simple word. The thought had been exhilarating for her at the time and she had jumped into the world head first, diving into a world where she believed she would be the best there could be. It was a childish thought now that she thinks on it in her young age and the woman would give her life to go back and erase the day she had never made the first jump. Magic had been exciting, it had brought her joy that her sister selfishly stole from her youth and she had foolishly believed the joy would last, that magic was the key to all her problems. Instead, she watched as her sister grew from her everyday she came home, she watched as the older girl's belongings slowly began to disappear from their shared room until all that was left was a bed that Lily knew was collecting dust with no one to lie in it. At first, she had all but shrugged the estranged relationship off; who was her sister to deny her the joy of magic once more? They were growing older, they were gaining more sense in their minds, surely Petunia would understand her foolishness, surely her sister wasn'tÂ leavingÂ her all because she was different. Surely, Lily wasn't being thrown away like trash. Yet, as much as she had tried to deny it, PetuniaÂ wasÂ throwing her away and sheÂ wasÂ being left alone to rot in her own thoughts. The older girl barely spoke a word to her when she arrived home for Christmas Break and Lily watched with horror as Petunia had all but moved into the guest room during her fifth year in Hogwarts. There her sister sat on the neatly folded bed, flipping through some sort magazine that Lily could hardly understand (had she spent that much time in the wizarding world? So much that she couldn't remember what a magazine was?) The thought had drifted through her mind but like all muggle things, she had let it disappear into nothing but air. She was a witch now and she had much more important things to do that did not include trying to remember a silly muggle magazine. Instead, she had approached the reading girl and with her wand tucked into her sleeve as a protective measure, the redhead greeted her sister with a cheerful 'hello' that went ignored until Lily had to physically grab the older woman by the wrist. She could never forget the reaction that Petunia had given her, the reaction that made her doubt having magic once more. Her cold blue eyes haunted her mind as she ripped her wrist free from the grip and sneered down at her like some sort of rodent. "Don't you dare," her voice had shook with rage and Lily, despite knowing that she could easily overpower her sister with her wand, shrunk back with fear shining in her green eyes, "Don't you dare touch me with your filthy, no good hands,Â Freak." The word that had been used stung, it stung more than the magical slur 'mudblood' and Lily felt her fear wash over with pure sorrow. Tears had sprung to her eyes and she was left to stand in the middle of the guest room as Petunia stormed away from her, yelling to all hell downstairs that their parents shouldÂ kick her outÂ because it wasn't like Lily didn'tÂ liveÂ in Hogwarts. But she was a witch, she reminded herself as the tears slipped from her eyes, and she wouldn't show signs of weakness in front of a muggle girl who knew nothing about herâ€”nothing about the world she had lived in, breathed in, and learned with every ounce of her being. So, she shook off the heavy feeling that constricted her chest and marched downstairs with a smile that made Petunia even more angry than ever before. She was different from her sister and for a while, Lily embraced this difference for as long as she could. Then theÂ warÂ came. She had dealt with slurs, bullies, and her fair share of creepy boys but nothing could prepare her for the catastrophe that was befalling upon them. Innocent men and women were being reported dead or gone from their homes, the world was up in flames and she was stuck in the center of it all like some idiotic mule. Days were spent keeping watch of her little cottage home and nights were spent waking up in fear that every little noise was a Death Eater that had managed to sneak in, managed to wait until they were asleep and unarmed to murder them. She had no plans of going out like that, murdered in her own sleep because she wasn't careful. So, she trained and she learned and she fought with all she had in her veins. The Order helped her gain stability, constant late night sessions with the famous Marauders and the rest of the gang gave her control over the hectic situation she was living in and for a while, there was nothing but peace. Slowly, things were beginning to dwindle and while people still died and homes were still being covered in flames, Lily had found herself relaxing underneath the gaze of the boys and girls she had grown up with for more than a few years. She should have realized that peace never lasts. It all happened so fast. Her marriage to James Potter and their nonexistent wedding, her pregnancy scare as she realized that she was carrying a child of her own making, thatÂ stupid fucking prophecyÂ that threw her world upside down. She can hardly try and remember what had happened during the weeks after she was told about the prophecy but she can never forget waking up in a pool of blood that was leaking underneath her legs and the scream that left her throat raw for what she could assume to be at least a week. The day had been rough on all of them but Lily found that James had taken it harder than any of them all did. He threw himself into work and she watched as his goodnight kisses became nothing but vacant air and as her smile dwindled day by day. Still, she thought to herself, she was a witch and she could handle this unlike her muggle counterparts. A few deep breaths could calm her down, a few good drinks of firewhiskey would bring back the love in their marriage. She had believed that for as long as she could until James stumbled into the bedroom cursing and she found herself locked within a state of constant buzzing anger that wasn't helped by the amount of whiskey she had downedâ€”the left over bottles being no concern to James who had kicked them aside and heard them shatter against the wall into fragments of sharp glass. The night was a hazy memory to her and she went through the motions of her life barely remembering what day of the month it was. It had stayed like that for a while until she regained the light in her eyes the day a crying newborn was placed into her arms and his numerous freckles reminded her of James Potter for the last time. She also remembers this day very clearly, remembers the way James frowned at the sleeping infant and exhaled deeply as she fed him. She even remembers the feeling of being thrown away again, like a broken toy no one bothered to fix. She's ripped away from her thoughts by the sound of something cracking. Peering down at her hands, she stared at the long stick that she had carried with her for as long as she could remember. The wood was still sleek with small ridges around the center, it was curled near the end and emitted a faint light when she lifted it in the air. Her eyes continued to stare down at it, recalling all the reasons that she was nothing but a different species to her older sister, nothing but a different breed to the magical world and her lips curled into a frown as she realized that being different would get you nothing but strife and hard labor, labor thatâ€”when seen by those who do look at you differentlyâ€”would never amount to a single thing in life. She pressed her nails into the wand, watching the ridges slowly open up as the cracking sounds began to grow untilâ€”snap! The pieces fell to the floor with a thud. Some say that snapping a wand felt painful, as if you were letting go of all your magical memories, but Lily felt neither pain nor sadness. No, instead, she felt relief. Bending down to pick the pieces of her wand up, the woman paused as her ears caught the sound of small footsteps. Fingers curling around the broken wand, the woman slowly stood to her full height and was ready to call out to whoever was in her home when a head of raven colored hair poked into her room. Her muscles relaxed at the sight and she rose a brow as the hair fully came into view along with a long white cane that moved along the wooden floor and bright yet unfocused eyes. "Milo?" The woman blinked at the sight of her son in front of her. The cane moved at the sound of her voice and she abandoned her broken wand to walk over, pausing before she touched his face. "I'll be combing my fingers through your hair, okay? What are you doing up this late?" The child blinks, feels the fingers of his mother through his hair as promised and pouted. "I had a weird dream," he tried to turn his head to where he assumed Lily's voice was coming fromâ€”she adjusted it slightly to the left. "There was a lot of screaming and a flying motorcycle... kind of like... um.. magicâ€”" Lily's muscles tensed before she knelt down. Her fingers trailed from his hair down to his face where she cupped his cheeks with a laugh. "Silly," she was almost certain her throat was burning from the next words she said, "Magic is just a fairy tale. Remember what Mummy told you about fairy tales?" Milo's lips twitched and Lily's smile dropped carefully at the next few words of her son. 

"Fairy Tales aren't Real." 


End file.
